


Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

by princessmiakitten



Category: Free!, Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, WHY IS EVERYTHING I WRITE SO SAD WHAT THE FUCK, casually digs my own grave, rarepair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:45:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessmiakitten/pseuds/princessmiakitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The spotlight reminds him of quiet mornings with sunlight filtering in the room through the cracks of the blinds, casting a golden glow to the tan skin beneath his fingers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [controlscircus](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=controlscircus).



Darkness is like the calm before the storm.

It reminds him of exploring hands fumbling with pieces of clothing. Long fingers that find purchase in his hair, of nails that dig into his skin-- deep enough to break the surface but don’t cause any pain.

He hears the broken moans loud and clear, hears the whispered repetition of his name, sounding more like a prayer.

Tetsurou closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his nimble fingers shaking as they wrap around the mic.

The spotlight comes on above him.

The spotlight reminds him of quiet mornings with sunlight filtering in the room through the cracks of the blinds, casting a golden glow to the tan skin beneath his fingers.

It reminds him of whispered declarations of love, only loud enough to reach his ears but not break the serenity of the moment. Those same fingers that broke skin the night prior now rake through Tetsurou’s hair with the utmost care.

The spotlight reminds him of summer road trips with the top of his car down so that the wind can tousle through both black hair and brown hair. Of course, while it has no effect on his natural mess of a bedhead, it leaves the brown hair in a state of disarray that only makes the passenger laugh. It made Tetsurou laugh then too. It makes him think about the sunlight hitting the passenger’s face, illuminating his face even more than Tetsurou thought was possible.

The piano begins to play the beginning notes of the song.

The crowd cheers, and while it’s not that big, it’s thunderous.

Thunder was how he stumbled into Tetsurou’s life, both boys at the young age of twelve. It was the age of being in between child and adolescent, their bodies still trying to navigate its way through elongating limbs and off-pitched voices. At the age of twelve, Tachibana Makoto wormed his way into Kuroo Tetsurou’s heart with glassy green eyes and a soft heart that was terrified by thunder.

The thunder of the crowd reminds Tetsurou of summer storms, of humid air filling their lungs as sheets of rain pelt against the window of their apartment. It reminds him of holding a shaking Makoto, of the feeling of soft hair beneath his fingertips as he tried his hardest to calm the brunet. It reminds him of the salty taste on his lips after they touch Makoto’s reddened cheeks.

At the age of twenty-five, Makoto left the same way he came: with shaking shoulders and tears streaming down his face. The same thunder that brought this angel into Tetsurou’s life took him away. The same thunder that followed Makoto thirteen years prior was left in the wake of his departure.

It’s been three years since.

Tetsurou hates thunder.

He takes a deep breath and starts to sing.

His voice is soft, tender with the emotions he tries to convey: sadness, desperation, loneliness.

Love.

The drum starts to beat, and Tetsurou’s heart beats in time as he sways along.

He keeps his eyes closed, the image of Makoto’s face behind his eyelids, memories rolling in his brain like a film.

He might have shed a tear or two.

When the second verse rolls around, he takes his chances and opens his eyes, squinting at first to adjust to the bright lights before they get a chance to scan the crowd.

And he’s sure he’s dreaming when they land on a head of olive-brown hair.

By the looks of it, the brunet isn’t as surprised as Tetsurou is.

He removes his mic from the stand and tries to get as close he can to the edge of the stage, wondering how and why Tachibana Makoto was here, in this vicinity.

So close, yet so far from reach.

Always at arm’s length.

The rest of the song is sung with such intensity that by the time it’s over, it leaves his throat raw, leaves his heart thudding in his chest, leaves him feeling emptier after giving his everything.

Did Makoto know the song was about him? There’s no way he couldn’t have known, really.

Makoto was his first, his only.

Tetsurou takes his eyes off of Makoto for a moment, only to thank the crowd for coming out and supporting him, for staying out as long as they did. It’s only a moment, but it’s long enough for Makoto to disappear, and he doesn’t even wait for the lights to go off before he’s running backstage, running outside.

Running to make up for not running earlier.

Running to get to Makoto, to apologize for the state he found Tetsurou in three years ago-- in bed with someone who was supposed to be Makoto’s best friend, in their apartment. He needed to explain to him that he was the only person Tetsurou ever loved, ever needed.

He finds Tachibana Makoto right outside the venue, back pressed up against the wall, head tilted up to look at the sky as he lifted a cigarette to his lips, wisps of white smoke spilling from his lips.

His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows.

There’s black ink staining his long neck.

Everything is so new, everything is so unlike the Makoto he knew-- Unlike the Makoto who walked out on him three years ago.

His heart starts to ache-- Makoto was still so breathtakingly beautiful, even with all these new changes.

“Makoto, are you ready to go?” A gruff voice breaks the silence from behind Tetsurou, and that’s what brings the brunet’s attention to his direction, emerald green eyes locking on golden.

Tetsurou sees it-- the hurt, the anger, the pain. He can’t breathe.

And then Tetsurou is released from Makoto’s gaze as it shifts to the man now walking towards him, and his face lights up.

Makoto looks at this stranger like he used to look at Tetsurou.

He watches as Makoto nods and he sees their lips moving but he can’t make out the words with his heartbeat pounding in his ears and he can’t move and he just feels like

falling

apart.

And then lips are on lips and Tetsurou can’t take it, no matter how short of a time it is.

And then he’s gone.

Tachibana Makoto is walking away again, hand in hand with someone who wasn’t him, leaving Tetsurou behind.

Lightning lit up the sky, and a clap of thunder followed soon after.

And soon enough, Tetsurou couldn’t tell if the water on his face were his tears or the rain.


End file.
